A Different Kind of Hero
by Kira Vulpes
Summary: Who is Rush Clovis? More importantly, what happened to him following the events in Season 2's episode "Senate Spy"? Both answers will be resolved in this story, along with the introduction of both familiar and new characters. Featured characters will include Anakin, Obi-Wan, Padme, Duchess Satine, both Death Watch and traditional Mandalorians, Captain Rex, and misc. bounty hunters.


**A Different Kind of Hero**

Author's Note: Ever since watching the Clone Wars episode "Senate Spy," I've been intrigued by Senator Rush Clovis's character. This picks up immediately at the end of that episode and will continue throughout the rest of the series. I plan on overlapping this with several of the other Clone Wars episodes and characters. Enjoy!

**Characters, as always, belong to their respective creators.

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**Chapter One:**

_Even the best-laid plans can go awry_.

Rush Clovis watched the sleek Naboo ship lift off, and with it, all of his hopes. The droid factory was going to be the last deal he did with the Separatists. But then Padmé had shown up, beautiful, dedicated Padmé, utterly devoted to her people, her cause.

Her Republic.

How could he have known that she was a spy, bringing up their former relationship just to gain his trust? How could he have known that that blasted Neimoidian would force him to show his hand by poisoning Padmé? He had pulled a gun on the coward to get the antidote but now he'd been left stranded and knew as he watched her ship fade into the distance that there would be hell to pay.

"Clovis, we need to talk." Lott Dod's voice broke through the Senator's thoughts. He turned, slowly, to find several battle droids standing near the Neimoidian with their guns pointed at him. Taking a deep breath, he began to walk forward.

He stopped a few feet away from the droids, glaring at Dod all the while. "What?" Padmé's safety was what mattered, and at least he had succeeded in that. Now all that remained was to face Dod and whatever retaliation he had planned.

The Neimoidian's lip curled, an especially unpleasant sight for his species. "Your…treachery is an unforgivable crime. I cannot trust you with any further business dealings."

"I seem to recall that you owe a rather large sum of money to the Banking Clan," Clovis replied, his mind racing. "If I go missing, it's going to look suspicious. Scipio will want to know what happened."

"Ah, but the Trade Federation is perfectly willing to pay of its debt." Dod's voice was smooth, almost a gloat. "And _I_ seem to recall that _you_ just lost the plans to the droid factory. I doubt the Banking Clan will be pleased to learn about that. They'll send someone else to replace you, hopefully one who is more _responsible_ this time."

Clovis's mouth was dry, but he refused to show his discomfort. "So what did you have in mind?"

"Does it matter?" Dod sneered. "Your precious senator is safe. Isn't that what you wanted?" He paused, allowing an uncomfortable silence to develop. "All I have to tell those who might be interested is that you lost your footing and fell over the edge. No one will know the difference—more importantly, no one will care."

"There'll be an investigation."

"They won't find anything." As if on cue, a droid fired at Clovis. He reacted instinctively, dodging with impressive speed. But he was not quick enough. The shot caught him in the arm, knocking him to the ground. It was over…

He waited for the inevitable pain, bitterness filling him. It wasn't that he feared death, but the thought of an execution at the hands of a droid firing squad, especially one commandeered by the likes of Dod, was not one that he cared much for.

Nothing happened.

Clovis started to sit up, ignoring the throbbing pain in his arm. Dod was glaring at the droid. "Who told you to fire?"

"But sir," the droid protested, "you said—"

"Shut it!" He redirected his attention to Clovis. "You should consider yourself lucky that a different fate awaits you. This is far too easy." He paused, motioning to a couple of droids. They seized Clovis and pulled him upright, a third standing behind him with its gun raised. By this point, Clovis's arm was burning, as if it was on fire, but he said nothing.

"But what to do with you?" Dod continued.

"Well, you could torture him," a droid remarked.

"Obviously." Dod cast a disdainful glance at the droid before returning his attention to Clovis. "Put him below in one of the holding cells. I'll figure out what to do with him later."

"Roger, roger," replied one of the droids holding Clovis.

"You heard him; let's go," the droid behind him added, prodding him in the back with its blaster. Dod stepped aside to let them pass, a sneer on his lips; behind him leered Poggle the Lesser who tried and failed to give off an intimidating air.

No witty, sarcastic parting shots sprang from Clovis as he was escorted inside; the gravity of the situation and blood loss were catching up with him. The droid led him into the depths of Dod's residence, an increasingly complex labyrinth of corridors and halls. Eventually, Clovis found himself shoved into a windowless room that clearly was serving as a cell. He staggered, caught himself, and spun to see the door close in his face.

He was trapped. Alive, at least, but held prisoner by one was all too eager to punish him for his actions. He had no delusions about what was to come.

He could feel blood trickling down his arm and hand and knew he needed to stem the flow. He attempted to tear off a piece of his shirt but made no progress, the fabric too resilient. Desperate, he walked to the back wall of the room and shoved his arm against the wall. The fresh burst of pain made him dizzy for a moment, but he gritted his teeth and rode it out. Gradually, his thoughts returned to Padmé. She had the antidote, so she would recover. And though her pilot was a little too possessive for his own liking, at least he, too, had a vested interest in her well-being.

She had called him a traitor, and she was right. But how could Padmé have known that he had vowed this would be the last deal he ever did with the Separatists? How could she have known that Scipio's government, already allied with the International Banking Clan, frequently approached him to ask him to represent Scipio in negotiations with various Separatist factions? How could she have known the turmoil he constantly felt, torn between his duty to his people and his duty to the Republic?

He realized that he had slid down the wall. He felt light-headed, faint, and knew he was on the verge of unconsciousness. _Padmé is safe…that's what matters…_

And then he knew now more.

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A/N: If you like this story so far, I would recommend following it, as I don't update regularly. I do, however, have several more chapters already written and waiting to be uploaded and many more planned... Reviews are also greatly appreciated!


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